Oblivio
by truthsetfree
Summary: How Frank and Alice came to be the way they are. Warnings: dark, violent. Feedback: Is always appreciated. Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Oblivio  
Rated: M  
Warnings: dark, violent  
Summary: How Frank and Alice came to be the way they are  
Feedback: Is always appreciated  
Disclaimer: I don't own Rowling's stuff

No! I can't give them names! I can't give them places! I can't give them what they want! But the pain is so much. Too much. I black out, and when I wake again I'm in my cell. I look over to Frank's, but he's not there. Which means they must have him in that room. They must be hurting him like they hurt me. They must be asking him all those questions. Showing him those things.  
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to keep myself from throwing up.  
The blood that trickles from me is itchy and thick.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dinner's here!"  
I look up, expecting another bowl of gruel that smells like dirty socks.  
Instead I find something gray and furry being thrown at me as they laugh.  
Gray and furry and covered in blood.  
It's innards ooz out onto my chest and I fling it away, only to see when it's head rolls back, two gaping holes where green eyes once stared up hopefully everytime I opened a new can of sardines.  
"Hijinks," I whisper. And I reach out with a shaking hand to pet my dead cat one last time.  
"Awwwwwww…Isn't that sweet?"  
The laughter grows louder.


	3. Chapter 3

The truth is, nobody can hold out forever. Everyone will crack eventually. That this knowledge comes from Lucius and Bella makes it no less true. And I finally realize, the only way to protect the Order, the only way not to tell them where Neville is. There's only one way. This is the way it must be. I won't let them do to Neville what they did to Hijinks.

There's a spell. An old one I found in a musty text. It's like Obliviate, but it doesn't require wands, or even spoken words. A silent spell. All it requires is eye contact. And Frank knows too.


	4. Chapter 4

They finally brought him back. My eyelashes are stuck together with blood, so I can only squint at him, and hope my ears aren't deceiving me when I hear the steps of our captors fade."Frank," it's only a whisper. Even the whisper burns. "Alice?"  
He replies with my name, but it's a question, and his voice is no louder than mine. Aren't we a pair?  
"Remember the spell."  
"They're going to come for us Alice."  
They showed me a paper today. We've been gone for over a week. No one will be coming to our rescue. They don't know where we are. They don't know which of Voldemort's supporters has us in their dungeon. I bow my head, and try to take a deep breath, only to become more conscious of my broken ribs. They aren't even the worst of it. Even if someone were coming for us, our re-union with Neville could only be short lived. We look like gargoyles. He'd run screaming. I try not to hold onto that image for too long because I know the pain that laughter brings.  
"No one's coming Frank."  
He looks at me, and I can see him giving up. I can see the last light go out in him. I killed that light.  
"We have to do it. We have to do it for the children. We have to do it for Neville."  
If we don't, we might as well change sides. We might as well capture all those little half-bloods and muggle-borns ourselves. Might as well escort Voldemort to Neville's crib. Neville. Our miracle baby. He was so sickly…Might as well torture them, kill them, and display them ourselves.  
"On the count of three," he says.  
It has to be done.  
"One."  
For Neville.  
"Two."  
Oblivio.  
It takes a moment to take effect, and then…


	5. Chapter 5

I am a leaf on a lake, and I drift gently on warm water. I can hear waves gently lapping, and a child laughing and screeching with joy, and I would smile, but I am a leaf.  
Until I'm not.  
I'm a sun-catcher, and I spin in a light breeze, playing with beams that fill me until I'm glowing. I hear a wind-chime twinkling.  
And now I am green paint, being massaged onto a blank white canvas. The artist's hand is gentle, and the artist's eyes are green like me.


End file.
